


Don't Fret Precious, I'm Here

by LadyLaela (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Knifeplay, M/M, Sibling Incest, Teasing, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LadyLaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a moment they clung, and of course it was Bro to gain control first, of course it was Bro who planted one firm hand on Dave's chest, prying their lips apart. His covered palm slipped between them, pressed insistently over Dave's mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Fret Precious, I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god guys I swore I'd never love it why is Stridercest suddenly everything beautiful in the world.  
> (don't worry guys Dave and John are still my otp.)

It started like it always did, Bro's sword flicked from it's sheath with a snick, Dave ready with his shoulders squared and his blade bare, eyes narrowed behind his shades. Bro's ever-present smirk had stopped phasing him at all by the time he was about twelve, and he did not hesitate. These days he always attacked first; his bigger, stronger sword flashing towards his brother before being deflected by his smaller and faster one.

Instincts honed the fight to a slow motion dance in his mind's eye, each lightening fast movement identified, predicted, deflected. At seventeen he was finally almost a match for Bro, and it made his chest feel funny because sometimes, he could tell the older Strider was proud about it.

As always, he was held back by flash-steps and impossibly quick parries; talents of Bro's he could never hope to match. It was impossible not to admire the stretch and twist and play of his brother's muscles, and oh god why'd he have to know that body so well as to picture almost every inch of skin. It was not a mental image that did him any fucking good during a sparring session, the type of thing he usually saved for late night fap sessions that always left him filled with sick shame and disgust.

Bro pushed off from one of the air conditioning units, launched himself straight at Dave who was shocked he was still holding his own when this distracted. He forced himself to focus on the clash of their steel, on the slight sting as it jarred his hands, and his lip curled into an almost imperceptible snarl as the adrenaline rushed through every nerve of his body and controlled him like a fucking marionette.

They were nothing but speed and sharp edges and finely honed temper, everything essentially Strider. Dave knocked Bro roughly back against a ventilation duct, made him stumble, mussed his hair. Bro got him back with a snap kick square on his sternum, and Dave swung up his sword as quick as he could, unable to aim, barely controlled desperation. Bro's ninjito caught it expertly just above the hilt, knocking it out of his grip, overbalancing him.

Dave barely caught his footing, and when he managed it the first thing he registered was Bro's harsh steel kissing his adam's apple. He let his eyes slip closed, letting himself breathe, feeling the blade unyielding on his neck when he swallowed. The razor's edge of it was right there, poised over the hot artery in his throat, Bro's expert hand staying it and stopping it from nicking even a single layer of skin.

Sweat ran down Dave's brow; and the dry, hot Texan breeze made the hair prickle on the back of his neck. He could feel everything – the tar sticking the soles of his chucks to the roof, the brush of his shirt against his nipples, his... oh fuck.

His eyes flew open, and even through two pairs of shades he knew Bro was focused intently on him. The smirk grew imperceptibly.

Oh _fuck_.

Panic rose in Dave, and his usually perfectly steady hands began to tremble. The adrenaline amped and his heart pounded in his ears and this was basically the worst possible thing that could have happened. This was catching Rose masturbating bad. This was puppy in a shoebox stuffed in the recycling bad.

This was your brother is going to fucking disown you bad.

Casually, and with a little swagger in his step, Bro flicked the sword down and closed the distance between them. He was going to fucking hit Dave, and he braced for it, forcing his eyes to stay open because fuck it he'd face this and he _wouldn't_ be a coward, not now.

A leather-gloved hand grabbed the side of his face almost forcefully, fingertips digging into his cheek as he was dragged into the most fiery kiss of his life.

His eyes didn't widen in shock, he didn't freeze up, he didn't jerk away. It felt so fucking right; it was like he was all up inside his Bro's head and his hand snapped down to the older Strider's ass and dragged him close and squeezed.

It was harsh, hard passion from both sides; and Dave knew in that instant that Bro had wanted it too, that he hadn't been the only one with the shameful jacking sessions. He was the only one who knew Bro well enough, the only one who'd ever be able to read him that way, and it made something warm flower and flourish in him and the endorphins in his veins made him rough as hell, made him rut like he was thirteen again.

For a moment they clung, and of course it was Bro to gain control first, of course it was Bro who planted one firm hand on Dave's chest, prying their lips apart. His covered palm slipped between them, pressed insistently over Dave's mouth.

Through two pairs of shades, Dave watched him, stilling himself almost instantly. Bro stepped back, both hands and heat leaving the younger Strider.

Dave even kept his pokerface, breathing heavily through his nose. As much as cooling lips wanted to part, to seek out what had been so fucking forbidden but was now explicitly allowed, he kept a handle on himself.

He watched Bro.

His brother brought up the ninjito, and somehow Dave knew he was not meant to arm himself. He stood stalk still, eyes locked on Bro's glasses, body relaxed even as the blade pulled back to strike, unflinching as it flicked a mere hair from his skin. Again. Again.

His shirt slid from his body, the cuts surgically precise.

Bro's smirk widened again. He stepped forwards once more, and Dave knew without being told that he was not supposed to move, that he should stay military-attention still, even as his body throbbed at an entirely different type of attention.

Lean, strong arms slipped almost lazily around his waist, Bro's body bumping against his, Bro's lips on his neck; and oh my fuck he wanted to move so bad but he didn't do it. He wanted more than anything to tip his head, show his throat, the very thought of doing it made him shudder. Bro's calloused fingertips ghosted down his collarbone, and he kept up his pokerface, sweat running down the centre of his back.

Crouching on the spot, Bro's face was dead level with the bulge in Dave's Levis. He had to swallow hard, tensing his muscles to keep his hips from twitching. He knew Bro was giving him a teasing look as he picked up the remains of the shirt, pressing a soft and fucking painfully sensual kiss just over the band of his pants as he stood.

Dave was only barely restraining violent shakes, no outlet for the adrenaline that always raged through him until he sparred to near collapse, that he couldn't relax from until after beating off in the shower afterwards. His lip started to involuntarily curl again as Bro stood, his body so close to skimming Dave's that he could feel his body heat.

It was making Dave crazy. He needed to touch, to take, to do everything he'd seen in his darkest and most secret dreams; the ones he'd never think of telling to Rose.

Bro wasn't letting him

The older Strider twisted the tshirt before tapping each of Dave's wrists sharply with a single finger. He knew to make them meet behind his back, not surprised at all when the makeshift rope was looped around them and tied tight.

He caught Bro's unseen eyes and arched a brow. _Don't think I can hold still?_

An almost inaudible snort. _Just in case, lil man._

His jeans were more uncomfortable than a tent full of circus freaks fucking and Bro was exacting zero mercy. Apparently no one had given him any get out of boner free cards, and even if there were dice to roll he couldn't so much as twitch a muscle to roll them.

A teasing peck pressed to his lips, his chin, his neck, Bro's knuckles trailed gently over his crotch and he held in his reflexive gasp. This was torture. He shot a sharp glance that he knew his brother saw, glasses or no.

The smirk widened.

This was a challenge.

Dave was not going to lose it. Bro hands slipped everywhere on him, sometimes featherlight and sometimes rough, fingers dipping down almost to grab his ass, thumb pad ghosting over a nipple, thigh pressing up not quite enough against him. He wouldn't move, wouldn't make a sound, couldn't push Bro away or fight back. His teeth were so tightly gritted that his jaw was seizing; he could hear them grinding. He tried to focus on that, but it was fucking impossible. Bro's smirk had grown to his equivalent of a grin.

He was fucking _playing_.

It was fucking _infuriating_.

A twitch of an eyebrow. _You know what I want._

Dave tightened his lips, a blatant no.

Hot breath over Dave's navel and a flash of teeth in that smile. _Give me what I want, I'll give you what you want._

It was not in Dave Strider to give up, and the torture continued. Hands made to wield the blade traced spirals over the muscles in his shoulders, the tip of a tongue followed the shape of his ear and he wanted to squirm and why was Bro sex incarnate, why was he some fucking fertility god in the shape of someone who just had to be related to Dave. It wasn't fair; Dave knew he could never compete, when could he ever, he could only stand his ground.

Only barely.

The sweat poured off of him, his hands trembled in their bonds. Bro's hand slipped up over slick skin, cupped the sensitive back of his neck, and he leaned in and whispered in his ear. He no doubt knew Dave would understand him without the words, but it was equally fucking doubtless he was using them for impact.

“You're fuckin safe here, man. Let it go.”

Except _let it go_ meant _let me in_ and it was a fucking test; Dave had known it all along. It was a search for confirmation, a _do you trust me this much?_

A soft nip behind the ear, and Dave let his head fall back, let out a charged _ah_ , but the tiny concession broke the brittle dam and he fell back against the brick behind him.

Suddenly Bro's hands were down where he'd wanted them all along, his jeans being unzipped, and just as suddenly he just couldn't still his shakes. Shame rushed though him at being a trembling heap against Bro and for a moment he was sure it was worse than jacking off while thinking about his older brother.

Bro gave him a look, and he didn't have to read it through two pairs of shades because he was looking right over them, naked red eyes his own concession. _It's just me._

Dave knew he could kiss him now and didn't want to waste the opportunity. He mashed his face against Bro's, all enthusiasm and passion and no skill and he just didn't care, and he was pretty damn sure the older Strider didn't either. He was shaking so fucking violently, Bro's arms were around his waist and his jeans were around his ankles and he was being pushed back up straight. Bro spit into his hand.

Through two pairs of shades Dave read his question.

And nodded.

He was almost painfully gentle but Dave didn't want to wait even if it hurt. He grit his teeth when Bro's fingers slid into him, but Dave had done it himself before and it didn't matter and the younger Strider just wanted him. He'd never admit it to anyone else, couldn't even fucking say it to Bro but said it with his lips and his tongue and he just gave himself. His hands were untied with quick, desperate precision.

It stung when he pushed in and Dave relaxed and let Bro help him stand, hitched one leg around him, pulled him close because god Dave had wanted him just so fucking long and when would he be waking up from this.

Dave would never let anybody else do this, see him like this, and he knew from the way Bro pounded into him that he was half crazy from fighting adrenaline too and clung and fisted his hands hard in the elder's hair and gained that tiny control over him and he let it happen, he trusted Dave too.

Dave couldn't hold on and made a mess on both of their chests and let out a groan that he knew sounded like he was in pain but Bro knew better and held his trembling body tight.

He tried to pull out and Dave knew it was because he didn't have a condom and he didn't want to fill him up, but didn't give a fuck; wanted him close, and the leg awkwardly hooked around his waist held him against Dave and it was his turn to hold Bro. Dave kissed his temple and was not sure why; Bro buried his face into Dave's shoulder and breathed him in.

Dave's eyes stung worse than his ass and he pressed his shades up even harder against the bridge of his nose, and Bro left a soft kiss on his lips as an apology for any roughness.

Through two pairs of shades, _I'm yours._


End file.
